


Keep the Home Fires Burning

by spikesgirl58



Series: the poetry challenge [5]
Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: It was supposed to be a rite of passage, but Wednesday doesn't see it as such.
Series: the poetry challenge [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171559
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	Keep the Home Fires Burning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravencade](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ravencade).



The bonfire burned and its flames crackled merrily. Morticia watched her children dance around it with the calm regard of a job well done. Another part of their childhood has been realized even as Wednesday was taking her step into the next part of her journey, a path that all Frump woman had to take. As for the poor unfortunate being licked by the flames, well, it was a mere token. For some reason, it was against the law to burn a real person at the stake these days.

“A penny for your thoughts, C _ara_.”

“I was remembering the good old days, Gomez.” She sighed longingly. “The fire, the heat, the screams of the townspeople.”

“We live in the best of times.”

“Do we? I fear our children will never know the thrill of the hunt, the biting, the clawing, the empty accusations…” Her voice trailed off as she rested her head on his shoulder. 

“True. Those were giddy days, but it’s also nice to not have to worry about a torch-carrying mob showing up at your doorstep just because their crop was destroyed.”

“That was careless of Mom, though.” Fester tromping up to them, his face a smear of garish colors. “She really should have waited until the council had left.”

“You have to hand it to the old girl. She knew how to leave an impression.”

Wednesday had stopped her cavorting and was staring into the fire. As if in a trance, she murmured,

_Some say the world will end in fire,_

_Some say in ice._

_From what I’ve tasted of desire_

_I hold with those who favor fire._

“Wednesday, that’s beautiful.” Fester clutched his chest. “Did you write it?”

“Some guy named Robert Frost did,” Pugsley answered. “They made us learn poetry. Wednesday got the best one.”

Wednesday looked back over her shoulder at her parents, her eyes dark. “It’s stupid.

“Wednesday!” Her father’s voice was shocked.

“Well, it is.” Suddenly she broke from the group and raced back to the house. Gomez took a step in her direction, but Morticia caught his arm.

“No, Gomez.”

“But, _Cara..._ ”

“This is a time when a girl needs her mother.” Morticia glided back to the house, leaving the men to tend to fire. She knew they would keep it burning until the wee hours. Only when the firetrucks showed up, along with the police and a restraining order, would they permit it to go out.

The house was quiet and Morticia’s passing made no sound. It was a skill that the Frump women excelled at having perfected it as they stole from encroaching bands of witch hunters.

She climbed the stairs easily and looked first left, then right, finally settling upon the path to her daughter’s room. She paused before the closed door and knocked softly.

“Wednesday?” At the lack of response, she pushed the door open and smiled at the prostate form of her daughter. She sat down beside the girl and stroked her hair. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“It’s not fair. I hate it!” Wednesday bent as if in pain and Morticia nodded.

“I know, sweetheart, but it’s the way we are. We cannot fight it. Instead we embrace it and find strength in that. It means that you are growing up and becoming a woman.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“ _Mon cher_ , we Addams are a resourceful and determined family. We have evaded our oppressors for many years. Sadly, this one we cannot. It crawls behind us, ready to snatch us up when we least expect it.”

“But what if I never—“

Morticia placed two blood red tipped fingers on her daughter’s lips. “Do not curse the future by longing for the past, Wednesday. We must move forward if we are to survive.”

Wednesday suddenly exploded in tears. “But, Mother, when will I get **my** bonfire? You can’t even carry a spell book at school. How will I learn so that I can escape my angry mob?”

Morticia cradled her daughter close. “Shh. Your time will come, whether it be in fire or ice. Tomorrow we will begin the next stage of your training. Since they refuse at school, it will be up to Grandmamma and me to teach you.” She took out a delicate handkerchief and dabbed the corners of Wednesday’s eyes. “You will have your bonfire, I promise you. One day, the fair people of this city was shiver at your name.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Until then, clutch at these dark feelings and let them drag you into a pit of despair.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Wednesday hugged her mother hard. She sat back with a grimace. “Oh, and I started my period.”

Morticia nodded. “And this is where the ice comes in.” She stroked Wednesday’s hair. “This, too, shall pass.” Smiling, she added,

_But if it had to perish twice,_

_I think I know enough of hate_

_To say that for destruction ice_

_Is also great_

_And would suffice_


End file.
